Sunday, January 31, 2016

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #110

Welcome back to another weekend of eating, enjoying each other's company, and discussing spanking. One of the things I like best about our brunches is that it gives people who don't have a blog a chance to participate and speak their minds. And speaking happens to be our topic for today.

Do you find it easy to talk to your partner about spanking? How often do you discuss the subject: often, seldom, or never? Who usually initiates the conversation?

Leave your response as a comment, and once everyone has had a chance to speak I will publish a summary of our discussion.

From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, January 30, 2016

You Completed the Caption

This was the original caption on Cheeseburger. Yours are much more entertaining!

Simon: In an attempt to combat the influence of eBooks, bookstores had resorted to increasingly controversial methods of promoting real books.

Sublove: Now that's a book you can judge by its cover!

Welcome, Sublove!

Leigh: This is just a sample of what you'll find inside.

Dr. Ken: Maybe you CAN judge a book by it's cover....

"The first book was too small. The second book was too big. But the third book was just right...." 

Anon: "Book learnin' isn't everything."

Baxter: I take the picture as an invitation from a beautiful woman who tells the other person (male or female) "let's write a book about our sex and spanking adventures and then sell it. And being a thick book, we will have plenty of both. Won't it be wonderful?"

King Marshal: Book...cover...judging...action

Liza: When the arresting officer told Sandy she was going to be booked for indecency, this isn't what she expected.

Sir Wendel: 1st edition copy of 50 Shades of Grey.

Ronnie: Jane knew she had to resort to a new marketing ploy to sell her book.

From Hermione's Heart

Friday, January 29, 2016

Friday FAIL

Only one FAIL today, but it's a doozy!

See why the camera is trained on Jennifer Lopez' most famous ASSet while she takes a bow.

From Hermione's Heart

Thursday, January 28, 2016

Complete the Caption

This intriguing sketch might have been done on the inside cover of a naughty novel, or perhaps on a paper napkin while waiting to be served in a restaurant. Whatever the origin, what was the inspiration behind it? What do you think the young lady is saying to you?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your scribbles on Saturday.

From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

From the Top Shelf - Old Friend

This story is by GeorgieC, who kindly sent me a few of his stories after seeing one of his published here. I think you will enjoy this one.
Yes, I know.  We're a disgrace.  In fact yes, I agree, we are fools.  As if drinking at our age wasn't bad enough, we had to go to the Red Lion where everyone knows Mr Benson and Mr Thomas spend their lunchtimes.

No, I don't enjoy getting the cane.  Do you think I'm some sort of pervert?  Well, not that sort of pervert anyway.  Yes, I know I have been here week after week.  None of the other lads come anywhere near the number of times I'm here.  No, I can assure you I really do not like getting the cane.  But that's not the point why I'm always here.

Mandy is sobbing slightly.  She's never been in this kind of trouble before.  She's heard the tales about what happens from other girls, of course, but this is the first time she's been here.  I can vouch for that.

He's told her to go and stand facing the wall while he deals first with me.  She stands with her hands behind her head so she can't see anything of what will happen to me.  I step forward and lean across the desk.  I feel my blazer being lifted, and the cane tap-tap-tapping across my now stretched trousers as he lines it up.

Six of the best.  He's on form today.  Sometimes when he's had a whacking session in the morning he can be quite weak.  The other week the whole of form 3C incurred his displeasure meaning that I got off quite lightly.  But the Force is with him today and it's six absolute stingers.

I get up and walk a little gingerly across to face the wall, taking Mandy's place as she is summoned forward.  Well, not quite Mandy's place.  Just one step to the left actually. One small step for man etc.  But an important one for me.

Because that one step angles me nicely in front of the glass-fronted bookcase.  The one that enables me now to see the reflections of Mandy and the Headmaster.  It couldn't be clearer if I was turned round facing them.  And the Headmaster has never noticed all these times.

He does what he always does.  Tells her to lean forward across the desk, and with a little flick of the wrist hitches her skirt up across her back.  He always does that to the girls.  I know.  I make sure I accompany every single one of them.  It's usually easy enough to get them to commit some misdemeanour that will bring a whacking, and then even easier to ensure we are caught.  A little carelessness is so easy to slip into.  Without any hint that it is anything other than bad luck.

I can see Mandy's white knickers reflected in the glass door.  They complete my set for the whole year group.  I've now seen every girl in the year displaying her knickers while bent across his desk.

Every single girl's knickers, white ones, and blue ones, and pink ones, and yellow ones, plus of course that memorable occasion when Shona Brien said the F-word as she received stroke number four.  She apologised profusely of course immediately, but it was already too late.  He had heard. That was a truly memorable day as her round, pink, totally bare bottom received a further six, her equally pink knickers dangling round her knees.  Although she knew I'd heard what happened, she of course had no idea I had actually watched and seen her not so little bum as bare as the day she was born.

Now it was Mandy's turn, and she shook and whimpered as the cane did its work, six times across her pretty knicker-covered bottom.

And then it was done.  I watched her stand, give a rather stimulating little rub that made her cheeks jiggle when she thought the Headmaster couldn't see while he put the cane back in the drawer, and straighten her skirt down.  He didn't see the rub - but I did.

I then turned to face the Head when told to.  He was telling Mandy that he was surprised to see her there, and wouldn't expect to have to do that again, but that he fully expected to see me again.  He just doesn't know what to do with me.  He tutted, and I looked contrite.

It's all right, sir.  You're doing fine.  There's a few I might try to get a second time round, now I've completed the collection.  I wonder if he collects them as well.  I think he does actually.  I wonder if he keeps a little notebook too.

Yes, I might try to get some a second time round. Helen Small had pants that definitely matched her name.  I might try to get her back here and have another look.  Or Shona maybe?  Lightning wouldn't strike twice, would it?  Could be worth a try.  And I'm sure the Head will be laying it on and listening out, hoping for the opportunity again.

We walk out of the room past the bookcase.

Goodbye for now, old friend.  I'll see you soon.

The question is: who or what is the old friend?
From Hermione's Heart

Monday, January 25, 2016

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for January 24

Eyed open or closed while being spanked? That question produced an enthusiastic response!

abby: Often my face is hidden in a pillow...eyes closed. If I am standing..eyes open. If i am lucky enough to drift off into space....who knows?

Sir Wendel: Most of the time I keep my eyes open during a spanking. The Misses will keep her eyes open if I spank her by hand. She closes them if I use the paddle or belt.

Janey: I'm not sure. My first thought was that I must close my eyes but then I can distinctly remember looking close up at the bed cover or pattern on the pillow too. I think that if he leaves gaps between each swat I must open my eyes in between and screw them up shut tight as each swat connects. However, I think that if he's going hard and fast my eyes remain closed and I concentrate on trying to breath!

Leigh: I don't know. I'll have to pay attention next time.

Roz: Often my face is buried in my hands, though I do tend to fluctuate between this and having my eyes open and closed.

Baxter: That is a really good question and I don't know. I suspect closed as I am anticipating the crop or paddle or spoon hitting my bottom. But I am not sure.

Eric51 Amy49: Once Eric really gets going, I close my eyes and try to breathe through it. However, if he pauses, he loves when I look back at him through my hair, which has usually fallen over my face.

cutiebootie: I love this question! I tend to have my eyes open when I am being spanked. I often see what pair of shoes he is wearing if he is spanking me while sitting on a chair.

As the spanking gets harder, I will close my eyes.

Arched one: As her favorite place to spank me is to put me to bed usually I'm hanging onto the headboard rails and my eyes are open until the spank lands.

Simon: Oh definitely eyes open, I like to gaze at her legs and feet if I'm in a position that enables me to do that. Sometimes I've been punished by a mirror and can enjoy a view of her and my reactions. The only exception is the odd occasion when I am blindfolded and this I find is a very different feeling.

Jan: Hi Hermione, I think a bit of both, depends how hard he is spanking. I reckon I close them more often than not.

S: I keep my eyes open, but sometimes he makes me put on an airline sleep mask, which totally blacks me out. I feel his hands guide me into position, and then re-arrange my clothes, so that I am bare, pantied or clothed, as he wishes. Even then I don't know what is going to land on my bottom. It is thrilling, as I wait; will it be a hearty spank from his big hand, or a smarting sting from his thin cane? Whatever, I always end up with an excitingly sore bottom.

Wilma: It all depends on how intense it is or where my mind is 'at' during. If I am being punished they are most definitely closed, unless of course I am having a 'self righteous' moment, then I fixate on one spot.

Terpsichore: I have done both as it provides a different sensory experience but I mostly love having my eyes closed when I am spanked.

Anon: I cover my eyes with my hands.

Ronnie: Depends on how intense the spanking is. Closed more often than not.

KB: I mostly leave them open. Except if I know a particular swat is going to really hurt them I squeeze then shut as if that will help with the pain. ( it doesn't by the way.)

Ella: Almost always open. I think I would get dizzy with them closed. I usually have my thoughts on what to hold onto. The spindles on the antique foot board of our bed. The flowers on the folded coverlet. Trying not to put my hand back.

If it is a happy "Just Because" spanking, I concentrate on the loving words Sam speaks.

Good question, Hermione!

Jenn: I know my eyes are open at least part of the time, but no doubt I close them as I "anticipate". I even close them when I think one is coming, but it is not!

Hermione: Closed, always. I like to block everything out and concentrate on the sensations. Sometimes if he pauses I might look around to see why, or I might take a peek to see which implement is coming up next, but my eyes remain shut the rest of the time. There isn't anything to see except the pattern on the bedspread.

Thank you all for responding. For those of you who aren't sure, I hope you'll soon instigate a spanking so you can find out the answer.
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #109

Welcome one and all to our regular weekend brunch, when we have an opportunity to discuss a spanking-related subject. Today's topic is pretty simple.

When you are being spanked, are your eyes open or closed? Have you tried the opposite? If you are a spanker, what have you observed in your partner?

Leave your reply as a comment, and once everyone has contributed I will publish a summary of your responses.

From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, January 23, 2016

You Completed the Caption

This was the caption I found on Cheezburger, and now here are yours:

Anon 1: Mrs. Houdini

Simon: It wasn't until he opened the chest that Simon realised that this definitely wasn't his luggage.

Eric51Amy49: The Michael Kors Spring Collection

Anon 2: How do you like my new bikini?

Anon 3: You know how you're always saying "this is going to hurt me more then it hurts you" when you spank me? In this case, I think you just might be right.

Anon 4: I'm sorry about my chastity outfit. Daddy makes me put it on before all my dates. He says he'll give you the key, but only after you marry me.

Enzo: Is that Mary-Louise Parker?

I have no idea. Readers?

Baxter: When I answered the job ad that said, get tied up in our chain business and sell for us, I didn't think I would get this type of exposure. Of course, I enjoy it very much and am getting more into BDSM every day. Don't think I could ever have so much fun in my job as I am having now.

Sir Wendel: The magician’s sleight of hand spanked the daylights out of me for messing this trick up last night.

Liza: When Professor Proton asked for a volunteer to demonstrate chain reactions, Laura had no idea what she was getting into.

Kingspan: The apprentice had been warned repeatedly that her master's articles were enchanted to bind any of the uninitiated who entered the chamber, and hold them fast until the master arrived to punish them personally. That's exactly why she did it.

garyntboy: I found all these chains inside this box and just look what happened. I got all tangled up.

Anon 5: I thought you said YOU had the key!

ricky: Jackie Marley's ghost checking on Ebenezer Scrooge to see if he is still truly reformed.

Jenn: Here we see a version of Alice in Chains, or -- more accurately -- Nancy in Chains.
From Hermione's Heart

Friday, January 22, 2016

Friday FAIL

It's time for another trip to Walmart. Thanks go out to fellow shoppers Leigh and Bogey for the pictures.

One-stop shopping at its best.

The medical ward is in aisle 3, sir.

Put on jeans just to go to Walmart? Why bother? Who will notice?

What has been seen cannot be unseen.

Let's all imagine that she sat on a wet bench at the instore McDonald's (instead of the obvious).

From Hermione's Heart

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Complete the Caption

This lovely lass appears to be all tied up. How did it happen, and why? What is in store for her next? Why does she appear to be rather content with her situation?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your entries on Saturday.

From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

From the Top Shelf - Suzette's First Spanking

Today I have chosen to use another extract from Jacqueline Ophir's The Fellowship of the Rod. Two adolescent girls discover the excitement of spanking, thus beginning an odyssey that continues and develops through their teenage years.

One very hot, long day when Suzette and her friend Genevieve were chatting together in Genevieve's garden - watched indulgently by Genevieve's blonde, cheerful mother, who was basking under the shade of some ancient oaks - Suzette mused:

"I wonder what it's like to be whipped at school?"

Genevieve said: "I can tell you - it hurts."

"No," said Suzette, almost to herself, "I don't mean that."

"Then what do you mean, you vacant creature?"

"I mean...all that goes with....being hurt there and in that way."

"Be precise," said the older girl, who had by now adopted a leader's and mentor's role in the friendship.

Suzette fell silent.

Genevieve watched her curiously for a few moments. A sudden breeze shook the branches of the chestnut tree above their heads and a stray twig, broken off in a recent gale but as yet unfallen, slithered down from above and lay on the grass between them, shapeless yet significant.

Then: "Wait here," said Genevieve. She rose swiftly to her feet and crossed the lawn to the house. In a minute she was back, holding a book, which she arranged on her lap after resuming her cross-legged position opposite Suzette, and began to peruse carefully, turning briskly from page to page. After some moments she found what she was looking for and then passed the book to her friend, indicating some words with her finger.

Suzette obediently took the book and glanced at the appointed page. It was a poem called "La Tour d'Orleans" which Mlle Lambercier had read to them a a few weeks earlier, and it dealt with the St. Bartholomew Massacre - a subject in which the Protestant Lamberciers, whose ancestors had been involved, took a deep and abiding interest. Suzette remembered it only slightly.

"Now," said Genevieve, "you ought to know this poem already, but just to be fair I'm going to give you ten minutes to refresh your memory."

"Then what?"

"Then I'm going to test you on it. Errors will be punished." She looked, and sounded, quite calm and purposeful. Suzette, her thoughts racing, obediently bent her attention to the poem.

Of course it was quite useless - this concentration on a dry-stick collection of words in the light of the pendant implications.

"Question one: who was the Mayor of Orleans?"

Suzette didn't know. "One error," said Genevieve. "The Mayor was Phillipe Barzac; it says so, here, in the second verse. Who fell at the door of the Tower, blessing God?"

Suzette didn't know that either, and was awarded another error. Then she rallied - her best instincts overcoming her worst - and answered three questions in succession. Even so by the end of ten minutes interrogation, she had accumulated a total of thirteen 'errors'. Submissively she waited for what came next.

"Come with me, miss," said Genevieve, whose face was now faintly flushed with excitement. Suzette followed the older girl past the basking Mama, up the stone steps, through the hall, and up the stairs to Genevieve's bedroom.

Then Genevieve faced her. "Errors, I told you, would be punished. Are you sorry for your inattentiveness?"

Suzette began to giggle, despite the enormous intensity of the other's manner.

"Are you sorry?" repeated Genevieve sharply.

Suzette hung her head and nodded. And now curiously, at the very moment she relinquished the last shreds of reality and entered Genevieve's fantasy (or was it the other way about?) with a whole heart, she really did begin to feel sorry and regret her slack scholarship.

The matter then proceeded to its pretty conclusion. Suzette's 'errors' were 'punished', all thirteen of them, by blows from the palm of Genevieve, who took her young friend across her lap in best maternal style and carried out all other functions with a style that Mlle. Lambercier could not imitate. The uncovering of the target itself took more than five minutes, from first grasp of hem to final fold, tuck and pat. The delivery, slow, solemn and beautifully paced in order to extract the maximum psychological weight from every stage of the proceedings, took another five minutes. Then Genevieve introduced a further inspired refinement. She ordered the culprit to spend some minutes standing in the corner of the bedroom, displaying, under compulsion, the chastised area (a delicate rose hue, no more, for Genevieve's slaps had not been severe), holding her own skirts aloft in order to do so.

The consequent glow in the adolescent heart of the impressionable Suzette far outshone the glow in her nether regions.

After this the two friends frequently played such games together, when opportunity afforded. In a comradely way, they explored the lower reaches of this vast and multi-faceted stream of ideas, discovering for themselves certain basic principles, as well as a multitude of incidental details. Genevieve's inspiration of the Ritual Aftermath - which of course placed the actual execution where it should be, at the climactic point two-thirds of the way through the experience instead of at the end - was matched by Suzette's methodical exploration of the various possibilities afforded by the instruments of correction.

Remember, theirs was the age of the birch-rod's unchallenged ascendancy in matters of this sort - that is to say, in affairs of domestic and pedagogical discipline. A birch-rod, of course, need not be made of birch wood, nor must it conform rigidly to any given pattern of length, weight, number of twigs, suppleness or method of binding.

All these things absorbed Suzette's attention, as soon as the birch became a regular feature of the games she played in secret with Genevieve. Noticing this, the more psychologically attuned older girl hit on the idea of requiring Suzette to furnish the rods with which she would then be whipped - always on the gentle side of severity with vast attention to ritual. On the whole, Suzette did not want to whip Genevieve, and the other girl indeed showed no sign of requiring a role-reversal. Instinctively they both realised that the 'authority' with which Genevieve imposed her will on Suzette would be forever blighted were it to crumble, even temporarily. So, in their frolics, the two girls soon settled down to an accepted pattern, varied certainly in detail but never in basic premise.

The scenery, props and stage directions altered constantly, but the cast of characters never. Suzette the meek, inattentive, frequently chastised girl-pupil; Genevieve the authoritative, firm yet kind, self-controlled administratrix of nursery-schoolroom justice. No other actors ever joined their company while these blissful months lasted.

They grew older, and the shared obsession evolved with delicacy, precision and the occasional inspiration. Close though oblique questioning of adults, chiefly Genevieve's amiable if vague mother, unearthed new material. For example, it was from this source that they learned that, in the days of her childhood, when she had been brought up by Huguenot nuns, the favoured corrective instrument had been a short whip made of a stock perhaps ten inches long and up to a dozen leather tails - what later generations would refer to as a 'Martinet' after the French army captain who decided on its suitability for use in juvenile military institutions. Mme Rheinhardt was sadly under-descriptive about the actual mode of use - referring to it as "most indelicate" when questioned - but they soon found out for themselves. Suzette made one, Genevieve used it on her, and both pronounced it inferior to the two-foot bundle of fine twigs which was their usual instrument.
The only rival to the birch in their stock of props and tools was, perhaps not surprisingly, the open hand. It was somehow more intimate than the rod and, although the physical feelings it induced were at first dissimilar to those of la verge, these nonetheless accumulated to a similar pitch of voluptuous pain. The secret was to apply the spanks at a brisk pace, never varying, sharply but not severely, continuing the punishment until the heat and the exquisite discomfort slowly built to a pitch where immediate relief became a cardinal essential.. at which point the grip on the culprit tightened, the force of the blows increased, and their tempo likewise doubled.

Then Genevieve, the dramatist, introduced a new and exciting theme. She presented her friend with a new and unused book of blank sheets, explaining that this was to be their record of proceedings. She, Suzette, was to write in it. Sometimes Genevieve would give dictation. More often Suzette would be required to compose her own wording. It was a diary-cum-punishment book.

Once she made Suzette compose a poem to order, which task Suzette failed to achieve within the alloted time. So she made Suzette disrobe entirely, then lie across some pillows in the middle of the bed. She then spanked Suzette crisply, twenty times with her hand, commanded her to stay still then went away and returned with a small, lithe birch with which she proceeded to administer eight sharp strokes upon the willingly offered fundament of the younger girl, Suzette's bottom already suffused in rich colour from the warming-up process, now glowing briefly red in linear designs as the supple twigs made their hissing descent at unhurried intervals.

Both of them were nearly fainting with pleasure when the castigation drew to a close, but still Genevieve retained enough self-control to compel Suzette to sit at a writing desk, still naked as the day she was born, and write a short essay on the experience while its imprint was still fresh on her mind, and other places too. Then - the crowning touch - she made the naked girl stand upon a stool and read her work aloud. Only then did she bring the curtain down. Despite the graceful diminuendo, both girls were flushed in face and body, eyes alight, breathing hard.

They gazed in each other's eyes with deep satisfaction, sure in their relationship for eternity, sharers of a secret joy like lovers who have been consumed by a fine lust and are now sated - relaxed, happy and grateful. And, after all, that's exactly what they were.

From Hermione's Heart

Monday, January 18, 2016

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for January 17

We reminisced about our favourite spanking movies this week.

Jack: McLintock! is my favorite. I liked the movie and I especially liked Maureen O'Hara's role. I have always liked her as an actress, but especially in that movie. I really liked the fact that the fight that ended with her getting a spanking in town near the end of the movie resulted in her having a better attitude towards her husband afterwards. I also enjoyed the spanking that "Becky" (Stephanie Powers) received from Patrick Wayne (John Wayne's real life son) earlier in the movie. I saw that movie when I was younger and "Becky's" spanking was the first on-screen spanking I had ever seen between adults. I really liked that they became a couple even though (or was it because) their relationship started with a spanking. I thought it was super hot!

I also liked Secretary. I liked the way Maggie Gyllenhaal's character courageously took the spanking given by James Spader's character. Very memorable.

Still love your blog!

Thank you!

Simon: From the mainstream (sort of) there's a Russian arthouse movie called Of Freaks and Men which features a number of birchings. It's set in the early part of the 20th century and filmed in sepia which makes it look as if it was made in the early days of cinema, it has a lovely soundtrack and beautiful shots of snowbound Russian cities and rivers. It also features attractive ladies having their bare bottoms birched. It's a very odd film and probably not to everybodies taste but I loved it. I also have a soft spot for a British sex comedy from the 1970's called Ups and Downs of a Handyman which was like most of the similar British films of the time fairly awful but did feature a spanking squire who punishes a number of ladies over the course of the film. The reason I remember it is that a saw it in the 70's when I was still quite young and it was the first time I had seen ladies getting their bare bottoms smacked on screen. At that time I knew I enjoyed spanking but hadn't really realised that that there were other people interested in it.

Anon: I have an old DVD from France. Les Memoirs de Monsieur Leon - Maitre Fesseur. I think it came from Alpha France or possibly Amazon. Leon, the Master Spanker offers his services to all who need them; the first encounter is with a man, who needs to watch his very chic wife being spanked. Leon bends her over, uncovers her bottom, before giving it a sound and lengthy spanking, which she and her husband really enjoy. There are four more spankings on the film, each just as thrilling, and convincing. Well worth it is you can get a copy.

Leigh: Other than McClintock, I can't think of a movie that had adult spanking. I do remember Spencer Tracy giving Kathryn Hepburn a couple of swats here and there and I think he also spanked Elizabeth Taylor in The Father of the Bride, but can't think of any others.

Ronnie: Secretary is a favourite of mine. The on screen chemistry between Maggie and James is excellent and I thought the spanking was handled well. Entertaining throughout.

McLintock is another film I like but who doesn't.

9 1/2 Weeks is a film where spanking should have been included.

ronjon: I always liked Love Camp #7. It is set in a women's prison during WWII run by the Germans. The best scene is when one of the prison women get out of hand and is stripped naked, tied up to the ceiling. The prison guard takes off his belt and gives her 20 some lashed to her bare bottom. Its looks very real as the red welts appear.

Also has some good videos.

Sir Wendel: McClintock is one of the best. Another favorite of mine  is the show Community. In one episode Gillian Jacobs takes her pants down and goes over Donald Glover’s grandma’s lap. Grandma gives her a whipping with a switch while Donald watches. Would have been great if they filmed it from a different angle so I could see her bare bottom.

Hermione: When I was very young and very interested in spanking, I remember watching movies on TV and hoping yet dreading to see a spanking scene. Hoping, because it was such a turn-on, but dreading, because I was usually in a room with adults who might notice my reaction. I remember the near-spanking scene in Meet Me in St, Louis, where Judy Garland almost spanks Margaret O'Brien.

There was a more graphic spanking scene in one of Mickey Rooney's movies. He was a teen and already getting into serious trouble. His father took off his belt, and in a show of bravado Mickey asked, "Do you want them up or down?" I forget which his father chose, but a serious strapping followed.

I've seen many other movies with spanking scenes since, including the one in Tank, but those two stick in my memory.

John: I believe it was Maureen O'Hara in Spencer's Mountain getting a single solid spank across her full-skirted bottom as she was hanging out the washing. If the expression on her face was anything to go by she really felt it! Of course, in the same year came McLintock in which she and Stephanie Powers, as mother and daughter, both felt the same coal shovel across their shapely behinds.

Thank you all for your memories. I just might look for some of the movies you mentioned that I haven't seen.
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #108

Winter has finally appeared with a vengeance here in the North, so today is a good day to snuggle up in front of the fire with a hot bowl of soup, and discuss another activity that never fails to bring a glow to the posterior. This week's question comes from faithful reader Six of the best.

What spanking movie have you seen that you really loved, and why? What made it memorable?

Leave your reply as a comment and I will publish a summary of our discussion once the weekend is over.
From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, January 16, 2016

You Completed the Caption

This one was a toughie, but some of you had your creative juices flowing!

Six of the best: "You're travelling on thin ice," I told my wife. "For overspending on our credit card. So my dear it's bottoms up, for 'six of the best' on that knickers down derriere of yours."

Baxter: I have to not fall down or I will fall on my very sore butt that my loving wife gave me this morning for being late last night. It is my own fault, but my wife is watching me and if I do fall on my butt, all I will hear is her shrieking laughter, the same as she used when spanking me earlier. i do love her though.

Ronnie: Tom stood amazed. He didn't know his father could skate like that.

Rollin: Wait til I get my hands on the gal that sold me these flippin' boots! I said I wanted something to deal with the ice and she gives me these things with a rail for a sole and ...whoa!...WHOA!

Anon: As Thomas worked to perfect his figure 8s, he couldn't help but be reminded of his wife's ample mature bottom and how much he enjoyed looking down on it when she was draped across his lap for a good spanking. The more he skated through the undulations of the figure 8s, the more he thought about his wife's behavior earlier that afternoon and his promise to put her over his knee and subject her beautiful bare bottom to a long session with the hairbrush. And the more he thought about warming his wife's fanny, the less distracted he was by the winter chill. Finally, when even the thoughts of reddening his wife's bottom could no longer stave off the cold, Thomas packed up and headed home, where he found his darling wife waiting in the corner, skirt up, panties down and bare bottom on display. As he took his seat in the kitchen chair, picked up the hairbrush and directed her to assume her very familiar position over his knee, he said, "This is exactly what I need to warm me up."

Hermione: Frank was looking forward to spanking his wife with his frozen leather gloves. Another two laps around the rink should have them hardened just enough.

Bravo to all those who rose to the challenge! Now on to brunch, where you will always receive a warm welcome. It's coming up next.
From Hermione's Heart

Friday, January 15, 2016

Friday FUN

Since I'm feeling in a good mood today (could it be because of all the snow?) I wanted to share some fun photos with you. I don't think you could call them FAILs.

For more fun, Complete the Caption.
From Hermione's Heart

Thursday, January 14, 2016

Complete the Caption

Winter is upon us here in the North, and outdoor skating is a popular pastime. Innocent, wholesome outdoor recreation, right? What could be kinky about it? I'll leave that to your imagination.

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your naughty thoughts on Saturday.
From Hermione's Heart

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

The Husband Meme

This meme is all about my better half. Please feel free to try it with your spouse or partner.

1. Name a favorite movie of his. Do you like it, too? If he doesn't have a favorite movie, substitute a TV series.
His all-time favourite is the TV series Breaking Bad. "Best show ever" he says. Also at the top of the list are The Wonder Years and Cheers. I love them all too. 

2. Tell us something you cook or bake that gets him so happy. Do you add something special that makes your recipe unique? 
He loves my date squares and butter tarts. I use real butter - not margerine - and that makes all the difference.

3. What does he wear to bed?

4. Does he have or has he ever grown a beard or mustache? Did you (or do you) like it or not?
He has both and I like them very much.

5. If they were going to make a movie of your husband, what actor would you pick to play him?
Bryan Cranston

6. Who is neater around the house, you or him? Then give us a sloppy example.
He is. I pile the coffee table high with newspapers, magazines, pens and paper, lip balm, name it. When the pile gets too high he complains and I clear it all away.

7. If you could buy him tickets to any concert (even if it's from the past), what musician or group would be singing or playing?
James Keelaghan

8. Does he wear a wedding ring? Do you care?
He wears his class ring.

9. How old was he and how old were you on the day you met? What else do you remember about that day?
I was 26 and he was 34. It was my first day at work so I remember it very well. I was instantly attracted to this handsome man. "Just my type," I thought. "I'd better watch out or I will fall for him." Well, I did.

10. If he is the one to choose an ethnic restaurant for dinner out, would it be Chinese, Indian, Mexican, French, Italian, Greek, or ...? 
He would choose our favourite English-style pub.

11. Does your man know how to dance? Is it something you both enjoy?
He can dance, but it isn't something we do at all any more. I used to do ballet and modern dance, but that isn't a couples thing.

12. If you were going to choose a dress in a color just to please him, what color would it be?
I look best in navy blue or red, so those are the colours I normally wear. Ron doesn't really care if I wear dresses. I own one dress, one jumper, and several skirts that are for non-casual occasions. He prefers the casual look, so I'm usually in slacks and a nice top when we go out.

13. Do you (or did you) like his mother? Why or why not?
She was a very sweet, kind woman who was devoted to her family.

14. Name a famous person he really admires.
Richard Dawkins

15. How does your husband take his coffee or tea?
Coffee with Coffeemate. He doesn't drink tea.

From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

From the Top Shelf - A Lesson Learned

Today's story was written by our friend Kaki Ann. It first appeared on Devlin O'Neill's weblog, but it deserves a second appearance. "A Lesson Learned" proves that you're never too old to go back to school, even if the learning process is sometimes rather painful.

Emily was running late again.  She was one of the oldest students in her class, having celebrated her fiftieth birthday several years before.  Emily had always been interested in writing and telling stories and was excited at the chance to take writing classes at the local community college.  She was so happy when she was offered an early retirement package, giving her extra free time, though she didn’t realize how much of it her classes would take.

Emily loved her class, but thought her professor, Mr. Murray, was too picky. 

“When I get my papers back from him they have more comments from him than what I wrote,” she complained to Anita, her young classmate and friend.  “This is supposed to be a beginner’s writing class but he expects us to write like we’re professionals.  If I get lower than a C on the last assignment, I’m going to lose my scholarship and have to pay for these classes myself and I can’t afford it.  He is so pedantic about everything; you would think he invented the English language and was the father of grammar.  Ugh!”

“Maybe you will get an A on your last paper; you spent a long time on it, didn’t you?”  Anita said, trying to encourage her.  “You told me you were determined to work on it all week and get an A.”

“I really planned on it, but the dog got sick, and then the neighbor needed me to babysit.  It was one thing after another.  I just ran out of time.  I think it was pretty good though.  Uh oh, here he comes.”

The following week before dismissing class Mr. Murray asked Emily to see him in his office.  Anita looked at Emily, who looked panic stricken.

“Why do you think he wants to see you?” Anita gaped.  “You didn’t!” 

Speechless, Emily could only nod.  She was nervous about being called into Mr. Murray’s office and felt like there were huge butterflies flying around in her stomach.  
He can’t possibly know it was me; he probably just wants to talk to me about my grade.  Yeah, that’s it.  He probably wants me to take an incomplete and try again next semester instead of failing me, she thought.

She found the professor’s office and knocked softly, hoping he wouldn’t hear so she could leave. But he called out for her to come in.  Emily took a deep breath, smiled, and entered the room.

“Good afternoon, Professor Murray, you wanted to see me?”

The man stood at his desk arranging some papers.  He was tall, sixtyish, with clear blue eyes and light brown hair that was beginning to show signs of gray.  Emily never noticed the color of his eyes since she always chose to sit in the back, hoping he wouldn’t notice her.  She also never noticed how distinguished he looked, but annoyed that men look distinguished as they gray and get older, while women just look old.
“Yes, Emily, and do you know why I asked to see you?”

“I figure it is about my grade,” she said nervously.

“Your grades are part of why I asked you here, but there is a bigger reason.  Do you see that bag on my desk?  I want you to look inside and tell me what you see.”

Emily walked over to the desk and looked inside. Her heart dropped.  “Um, it looks like a bag of Oreos all split in half.”

“Yes, and do you know where I found them, Emily?”  

“No, how would I know?”   

“They were stuck all over my car this morning.  It took me over an hour to scrape all of them off and get my car washed.”   The professor sounded very annoyed.
Picturing her professor outside, in his suit, scraping Oreos off his car, Emily couldn’t help but begin to giggle. 

“I’m happy you find this amusing, young lady.  I was almost late, which is trait I find rude and disrespectful.”  He gave her a look that told her he noticed she sometimes came to class late.  “Are you going to tell me the truth or not?  Just to warn you, I will go much easier on you if you tell the truth; I don’t tolerate anyone lying to me.”

Emily stopped giggling and stood staring, not knowing what to say.  She knew she was the one who put the Oreos on his car, but she was positive nobody saw her. How did he know? Why did I listen to Anita? Emily groaned inwardly, thinking back a week to when Mr. Murray returned their papers.  She couldn’t believe her eyes.  He had failed her!   Emily was furious; she could see her scholarship fly out the window. 

“He makes me so mad.  Just look at the grade he gave me,” said Emily, showing her paper to Anita.  “I wish there was some way I could get back at him.  Maybe my paper wasn’t an A but it sure didn’t deserve an F.” 

Anita got a mischievous look in her eyes and said, “Do you really mean it?  You want to get back at him?”

“Yes, but nothing dangerous, more like a prank.  I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”   Emily remembered some of the stories Anita told her of her younger days and got nervous. Anita laughed. “Have you ever heard of Oreoing a car?”

“Oreoing?  What the heck is that?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like.  You get Oreos, twist them a part, and stick them on a car.  We used to do it at home all the time.  If you do it to a red car it looks like a ladybug when you are finished.” Anita laughed.   

The professor raised his voice, but only slightly.   “Well, young lady, are you going to answer me?” 

Startled out of her reverie, Emily jumped when he spoke.  “N-No, I don’t know anything about Oreos on your car.  I’m over fifty years old; do you really think I would pull a childish prank like that?  I am appalled that you would even consider that I would do such a thing.  I thought you called me here to discuss my grade, not make ridiculous accusations.” 

Emily was annoyed and so caught up in defending herself that for a minute she totally forgot she actually was guilty.  The last thing she wanted was for Mr. Murray to find out that it really was she who stuck all those cookies on his car, because, although he frustrated her, she really did like and respect him and would be humiliated if he knew.   
Professor Murray sighed.  “Is that the story you are sticking with?”

“It’s not a story; it’s the truth, whether you believe me or not.”

He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.   “Fine, have it your way.  Did you know that the college’s student handbook states that vandalism to a professor’s possessions is punishable by expulsion with no reimbursement of tuition, and noted in the student’s records, in addition to being reported to the police?  This is serious, Emily, and I know it was you.” 

Her mouth went dry and she started perspiring.  “H-How, how do you know it was me, Professor?”

He walked to his desk and said, “Did you purchase the book I suggested everyone read for extra credit?” 

Emily was puzzled by the question.  “Yes, you said to read To Kill a Mockingbird and do a book report.  I bought it the same day.”

“What did you do with the receipt, Emily?”

Confused, she looked at him and replied, “I guess I stuck it in my jeans pocket or left it in the bag with the book.  What difference does it make what I did with the receipt?"

Mr. Murray looked at Emily straight in the eye and said, “Because I found it next to my car the morning after you put Oreos all over it.  Look, see for yourself; it has your name and credit card information on it.”  He took the receipt from his desk and handed it to Emily.  “Is this your receipt?”

The guilty woman was very embarrassed and knew it was time to tell the truth.  She already was in big trouble and decided not to add to it. 

“Yes, sir, the receipt is mine.  It must have fallen out of the pocket of my jeans when I took my car keys out,” she groaned.  “I am so sorry, Professor, I don’t know what came over me.  I was just so upset and angry that you gave me an F on my paper.  Honestly, I’ve never done anything like this before in my life.  I am really sorry; you aren’t going to report me to the dean or police or anyone, are you?  I would be humiliated.”  

“First of all, missy, I did not give you an F; you gave yourself an F.  You are capable of doing a much better job than what you handed in.  I gave you a week for that assignment and it looks like you wrote it in less than an hour.  Secondly, you lied to me after I told you I don’t tolerate liars.  A person is only as good as her word; do you want people to distrust you?”

He looked right into her eyes the entire time he spoke. She felt as if he was looking right into her soul.

“No, Professor, I was so scared, that’s why I lied to you.  I don’t normally lie and I am really sorry for lying, and putting the Oreos on your car, and handing in a crappy assignment, and blaming you for my grade.  I really, really am sorry.  Can you please let me go?  I promise never to do anything like this again.  I will do better in class, too, if you give me another chance, please, please, please.” 

The tears in Emily’s eye trickled down her cheeks as she looked at him, waiting for his answer.

Mr. Murray was not angry at Emily.  He thought the prank was amusing but he knew he couldn’t let Emily know.  He felt she needed something to teach her a lesson and had just the idea. 

“Emily, what you did was wrong and you need to be punished.  If you are in agreement, there is a way we can take care of this without involving the dean or police; it will be between just us.”

Emily felt nervous, “What kind of punishment do you mean?”

“I mean a spanking.  Have you ever been spanked at school, home, or maybe by a boyfriend?”

Shocked, Emily couldn’t believe she heard correctly.  Spanking was fairly common in school when she was growing up but that was a long time ago; they surely didn’t do it anymore.  And he said it so calmly, like he was suggesting tea. 

“I remember being spanked a few times at home and a couple times at school, but that was a very long time ago.  I’m a middle aged woman, Professor Murray, almost as old as you, not one of the young kids that attend here.  Maybe there is something I can do for you, like help you grade papers, or tidy your office or something like that?” 

“No, young lady, I don’t need help with those things; I have students who volunteer for that work.  Besides, you need to be taught a lesson.”  He stood with his arms folded staring at her.  “What will it be?  Do I call the dean or are you ready to take your spanking?”

“Y-You aren’t serious, are you?   Y-You mean now?  I’m not ready.  I-I don’t know what to do.  Can I have a few days to think about it?”  Emily babbled, trying to stall.

“Yes, I mean now, and no, you may not have a few days to think about it.  You should have thought about putting Oreos all over my car for a few days.  Now, what is your decision, expelled or spanked?”

Emily sighed and looked down at the floor and whispered, “Spanked.”

“Louder, Emily, I can’t hear you.”

Oh, my God, she thought, he wants me to say it out loud. 

“I can’t say that out loud.  Please don’t make me; it’s embarrassing.  I said what you did, not the expelled thing, the other.  OK?”   The naughty girl could feel her cheeks burning.

Professor Murray sat on the wooden armless chair he reserved just for occasions such as this. 

“Come over here, Emily.” 

He unzipped and lowered her jeans, patted his lap and instructed her to lie across his thighs.  She did as she was instructed and he adjusted her so she would be comfortable, at least part of her.

“Don’t do it too hard, OK, Professor?” 

She couldn’t see him smiling as he answered her.  “A spanking has to hurt if it is going to teach a lesson, little girl.”

 “Oh, my,” she squeaked and felt a cool breeze as he tugged her panties down.  He can see my bare butt, she thought, and then she had another thought.  Oh, no, he can see my big bare butt; he is used to the young girls and mine looks huge.  Then suddenly she heard a slap and felt a burning in her posterior.  “Ouch!  That hurts.”

“Like I said before, it’s a spanking, it’s supposed to hurt, now hush.” 

Another slap to the other cheek followed and stung as much as the first.


The spanks kept coming, sometimes alternating cheeks, sometimes several in the same spot.  Emily was so embarrassed she wasn’t sure which set of her cheeks were redder, the ones on her face or her bottom ones.  When the Professor smacked the tender spot where her bottom and thigh met Emily yelped and almost jumped off his lap so he locked her legs between his so she wouldn’t fall and get hurt and continued working on her sit spot never missing a spank. 

Emily wriggled and cried out, “Please, sir, stop, I am sorry, I promise to be good.  I’ll never play a prank on you ever again, I mean it.”

The spanking continued for several minutes, leaving no part of her bottom forgotten.
He stopped for a minute and Emily started to get up. 

“Hold on now, we aren’t finished yet, that was just the warm up.”

The naughty girl looked up in disbelief.  “Just the warm up?  You mean there’s more?”

Her professor looked at her sternly and reminded her, “Remember, I gave you fair warning about lying to me.  I told you I would go easier on you if you told the truth, but you chose to fib.”

The next thing Emily knew the professor was smacking her behind with a small wooden paddle and her bottom felt like it was on fire.  Emily kicked and hollered at the new fire being applied to her bottom.  After delivering a couple dozen swats with the paddle he asked, “Are you sorry for putting Oreos all over my car?”

It took a minute for Emily to get her breath from crying.  “Yes, sir, I am very sorry.”

“Are you ever going to do it again,” he asked, punctuating each word with a smack with of the paddle.

“No, sir, never,” Emily cried and stretched her free hand to protect her burning bum.
The professor held her hand behind her back and told her, “Don’t try to cover your bottom with your hand.  You could get your hand injured.  “Are you going to try harder with your assignments?”


“Yes, what?”  He added a couple extra smacks with the paddle to impress upon her the importance of addressing him as ‘sir’ during her punishment.

“Yes, sir.” 

“OK, you can get up now; go stand in the corner and think about what you did.”
I am not going to stand in the corner, she thought.  As she was ready to open her mouth, she spied the paddle on the desk, thought better of it, and headed toward the corner rubbing her sore behind.

“No rubbing, young lady, or we will start over.”

Hearing that, she quickly locked her hands together behind her back and faced the corner. As Emily stood thinking, she realized what the professor said had made sense.  She never should have lied to him or blamed him for her poor grades.  And she should never have played that prank; she was very lucky he was such a kind and reasonable man.  The spanking really hurt and was terribly embarrassing but not as embarrassing as getting kicked out of school.  She couldn’t put her finger on it but she felt more at peace with herself and not at all angry, especially not at Professor Murray. 

He sat at his desk trying to grade papers but couldn’t help admiring the shades of pink and red covering the full bottom staring at him.  It had been some time since he had a mature bottom to spank; most of his students were young, recent high school graduates who needed a little old fashioned guidance. 

Emily’s sniffling had mostly stopped. 

“You may come out of the corner now.”

She put her clothes right and turned; her eyes were red from crying.  He put his arms around her and gave her a hug.  “I really am sorry, sir.”

“I know you are, Emily.  You are forgiven and this will all be behind us now.”  He smiled at her.

 “Thank you, sir.”  Emily’s bottom was still very sore but she couldn’t help but smile back at the professor.

“Emily, I want to help you make a clean start.  I want you to come to my office for tutoring after every class.  We will extend it to the weekend if it becomes necessary.  But one thing you must know is that you will be spanked if I am not satisfied with your work.  Do you understand, young lady?”

Emily was so happy and gave him an excited ‘yes, sir’ and a big hug.  “Thank you so much, sir, you’re so kind.”  

As Emily walked out the door Mr. Murray called to her.  “I forgot to tell you; you owe me ten dollars for the car wash.” 

Emily laughed and asked, “Hey, Professor, have you ever heard of bisquiting?”
I have the feeling that Emily's tutorials will result in some uncomfortable sitting afterward.
From Hermione's Heart

Monday, January 11, 2016

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for January 10

We discussed shopping for implements in vanilla stores and this is what you said:

Dan: I still recall vividly my trip to a mall to find a heavy hairbrush after we had our initial discussion about trying spanking as domestic discipline. Yes, I was firmly convinced that every single female sales clerk knew why I was looking for one. The same occurred when I bought a solid wooden bath brush. Whether the clerks really did suspect my ulterior motive is impossible to know but, really, how many men show for wooden "paddle"-style hairbrushes and bath brushes? I am guessing not that many.

Roz: I have wondered if the staff knew the dual purpose when buying things like wooden spoons etc. We went into a gift shop once around Christmas that had, among other things, a riding crop, toy fluffy cuffs etc. That was embarrassing. I tried to pretend they were gag Christmas gifts.

Leigh: I don't feel embarrassed when buying implements with a dual purpose. I usually shop for other things online, so I'm not embarrassed at all. haha

Wilma: I thought for sure Barney would feel odd going into a saddlery store to buy a quirt. I had made up a 'story' for him just in case. You know, " My sister in law lives out of town and asked me to ...." Nope. He just walked in talked to the woman about the different ones and picked the one he liked ( not one I am fussy about, not sure if ANY of them I would 'like').

As for at the beginning when we first started buying things, no. Like Leigh, we buy the specific to spanking stuff generally online.

Fred: I love pervertibles, most of my spanking toys are repurposed. Spoons, belts, brushes, shoe horns, I have them all.

Mostly I just see something that I like the look of and buy it. It's intended purpose is not obvious at the point of purchase. However ... Some time back I had in mind to make some floggers, so I thought that I could acquire suitable leather strips by repurposing some belts, so I headed out to the thrift stores on a buying mission. I took a kinky friend along. She is talkative type and soon she had the thrift store assistant engaged in conversation. I arrived the checkout with an armful of belts, a couple of brushes and a pair of plimsolls.
"Interesting items you have here." Thrift lady observed. I would have kept quiet, made my donation and left but my companion made the mistake of saying "We are looking for materials for a craft project."
"Really what's sort of project?" Thrift lady asked.
We just looked at each other, neither of us really having a suitable reply/cover story. It sort of ended in awkward silence as we handed over the cash and left.
These days I get my pervertibles on online auction sites, it's easier.

Jenn: For the most part, I don't think the staff are aware of what I'm thinking while shopping for "pervertibles". The first one I bought was a hairbrush. I wanted it as a brush, too, so I just looked at the back quickly to notice that there were no protrusions that would prevent its dual use as a spanking tool. Later, when I shopped for a bath brush. I did slap it against my left palm, but that was very brief and there was no one around. I doubt the security cameras even noticed. Recently I bought a a man's belt as a gift, and I did note that it would be great for a strapping. I sometimes inspect wooden spoons, bath brushes, and men's belts when I'm not planning to buy them, but I don't think anyone is the wiser.

Jan: Hi Hermione, If we see stuff when we are vanilla shopping we just throw it in the trolley amongst the rest and don't think anyone will ever guess. Proper spanking stuff is what computers were made for surely?

Ronnie: I used to feel a little embarrassed but not any more. Now I rarely buy spanking toys from a vanilla shop it's all done on line.

Baxter: We went into the cooking store downtown and my intent was going to the bread board section in search of a suitable spanking paddle. I found it, showed it to my wife (she is the spanker) and she said if you want it, get it. Well I went up to the counter and the woman scanned it and on the screen, it said 'bread paddle'. I snickered and pointed to it and my wife snickered also. Did the saleswoman have any idea what we were snickering about or was she just bored, ringing up purchases and looking at the clock? I doubt she had any idea. Another time, we went into the hardware store and the cooking section and I pointed to a wooden spoon. My wife said if you want it, get it. So into the basket it went and she covered it with some other stuff we were buying. I whispered that it only looks like we are buying a wooden spoon and she said 'yeah' and off we went to check out. Doubt the cashier thought anything of it since we were buying all sorts of stuff you find at hardware stores. But what if they suspected anything? Maybe someone who is a cashier can say.

Joe from Alberta: This has nothing to do with spanking, but I one time was buying a few items for an evening in with a female acquaintance. I like to be prepared, so I was in this small family oriented store called Wal-Mart. I deliberately went on a Thursday night after work, so there would be less people around. Anyway, in the basket I had condoms, flavoured condoms, whipped cream, coconut oil, water based lube,a fleet enema, mouthwash, nylon clothes line, strawberries, and shaving cream.

So I purposely went to the self checkout where there was nobody around. As my luck always goes, this middle aged woman working a til waves me over, and says "I can run you through here". My thought was "Oh %$@*^ great". So no sooner do I haul my sorry butt over there, and a woman with two teenage daughters enters the line behind me. We go from nobody; to me and four female people now present. So I thought "well, ain't my fault". I started taking everything out of the basket, and putting it on the conveyor belt to go through.

The older girl starts giggling, and whispers to her sister "probably for his boyfriend". I usually might get flustered, but that time I was so p*ssed off about not being able to do the self checkout, I just looked at her, and said "No...actually it's for a prostitute". The kid's face turned red, and then her mom started laughing, and told her to shut up.

Why in the name of god, the woman at the till just didn't let me do the self checkout thing is beyond me. But since then I make sure I don't go through the regular lineups when I'm getting things beyond normal items no matter what. I don't think I have a story that can top this one.

I don't think so either. I have been redirected by managers at Walmart when they want to even out the traffic among the checkouts.

Hermione: Like many of you, I do most of my implement shopping online. I do remember finding a dogleg bath brush in Pottery Barn a few years ago. I was certain the clerk knew exactly what it was intended to be used for. I've also blushed as I bought wooden spoons at a dollar store. I felt uncomfortable the first time I shopped in an adult store, because all the serious implements were behind the counter, but the sales associate put me at ease and I actually enjoyed my visit.

Thank you all for sharing your interesting and embarrassing experiences.
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #107

Welcome, dear friends, to our weekly spanko brunch. This week's topic was inpired by a comment left by fellow blogger Ella. She said, "Just this weekend I found a Japanese rice paddle at an antique store. I am always self-conscious now when I purchase something like that. Do they know why I chose that particular item?" That's a good question, so I'll put it to you too.

When you shop in a vanilla store for a spanking implement, do you ever feel embarrassed? Do you think the staff know what it's really for? Does it depend on the type of implement and/or the kind of store?

Leave your thoughts here as a comment, and I will publish a summary of our discussion once everyone has had a chance to speak.
From Hermione's Heart